


The Secret of Tarine Hall

by PaperPrince



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Kylo Amidala, M/M, Omega Verse, Prince Kylo Ren, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Virgin Kylo Ren, reluctant ward Kylo, spoilt Kylo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperPrince/pseuds/PaperPrince
Summary: Twenty year old Omega Prince Kylo Amidala is orphaned and made homeless by war.  With no family to assist him Kylo becomes the reluctant ward of Lord Hux, a former friend of Kylo's grandfather. Left alone in the lonely Tarine Hall Kylo is miserable until he discovers a hidden door…Aka the secret garden au no one asked for. Don’t worry I’m only lightly inspired by the book, not stealing it entirely.*Edited slightly
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited, with several chapters put together so the story flows better.

The rain fell softly against the windows, the rain’s gentle patter muffled by the heavy curtains that obscured the silvery moonlight and starry sky from view. It was late, the clock by the four-poster bed read almost midnight. The spring so far had been harsh and biting, frost clinging to the first blooms. Nonetheless the room was warm enough, the walls decorated with thick tapestries and several sturdy bookshelves acting as insulators. The room was dimly lit, a single candle casting a warm glow across the gloomy room. The fire the maid had laid earlier, burned low in the hearth, neglected.

Despite the late hour, a pale youth sat alone at his dressing table observing himself in the mirror, his long dark hair half brushed. Prince Kylo Amidala was a poor Omega in many respects. Besides the obvious defects in his looks, he was an orphan cast out of his homeland and reliant on the kindness of others for his comfort.

Kylo sighed deeply and unfashionably, his hands still shaking with anger despite his attempts at meditation.

Earlier that evening his hopeless maid had spoiled his mood during his evening bath, thoughtlessly reminding him with a cold bucket of water, that tomorrow was the anniversary of his parents passing. Time had passed so quickly, and yet the pain was still so fresh it cut his soul.

He had yelled at the maid and she had run from the bathroom with tears in her eyes, leaving him to finish his tepid bath alone. He had dressed for bed and dried his hair unaided. Hours later and his mind was still not settled despite much pacing.

In his mind’s eye Kylo imagined throwing the hard wooden brush into the gilded mirror and shattering it. Aware that his lordship was already alarmed about his expenses, Kylo let the brush fall from his hand and clatter on to the table instead. While his current home was not the glittering palace Kylo was born in, he was comfortable enough with a private settee by the window and as many novels as he could wish for.

Opening the left side drawer on his dressing table, Kylo removed a small black box. Inside lay a gold locket, Kylo held it up to the candle light, revealing the small smiling photographs of his late parents. Tears rolled down his damp cheeks as he remembered. 

A surprise attack by foreign military, had taken everything he was accustomed to away from him. Dumb luck and his own cunning had prevented him from meeting his parents’ sad fate.

Prince Kylo had just returned from riding when the attack happened. The soldiers were swift and merciless, eliminating much of the court with their swords. Blood and screams filled the hallways as people ran in every direction.

He had been far from the throne room but he still heard the gunshots.

Mistaken for a simple stable boy in all the confusion, he had fled with the rest of the terrified servants. Taking an assumed name and little else besides what he could stuff in his pockets, he had then travelled west, trusting no one, walking on aching legs until he had reached the sea. With a heavy heart and a hollow stomach, he had traded his mother’s ruby earrings for a small cabin on a steam ship headed to his father’s homeland, Corellia.

Kylo’s stomach rolled even now, remembering the sway of the sea and the salty sting of the sea air. It had been an uncomfortable journey to say the least, hiding away in his miserable quarters, afraid at any moment he may be recognised by the other passengers. That an unknown assassin might try and push him over the edge of the ship or poison his porridge at breakfast. During that dismal voyage Kylo had cried many times in secret, not that his pride would let him admit it to anyone.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, whispers of Kylo’s impending arrival in Corellia had reached the shores before him, and the ears of the Resistance. Those still fiercely loyal to his late mother.

When the steamship at last reached the shore of Corellia, Kylo found a familiar face from his childhood waiting at the docks for him.

“Master Ben!” Cried Mr Threepo standing in the welcoming crowd of strangers, full of people waiting for their loved ones, friends and relatives to disembark the steamship. He waved his hands energetically to drawn Kylo’s attention, Mr Threepo’s familiar golden hair and round spectacles a welcome sight in this unfamiliar land. Kylo cried with joy at the sight of the elder gentleman and let himself be lead to Mr Threepo’s waiting carriage.

At last he felt free of the shadowy danger that had chased him from his homeland. Mr Threepo had been one of his mother’s trusted advisors for many years and had even introduced her to her scoundrel of husband. Kylo knew instinctively that he could trust Mr Threepo to take care of him in this strange land.

Exhausted by his travels Kylo had then spent the first few weeks in Corellia living at a modest hotel in Coronet city, recovering from his terrifying ordeal, eating jam tarts idling on a chaise longue while his mother’s former attorneys; Mr Threepo along with his husband Mr Deetwo worked out what to do with him.

At twenty years of age Kylo was a peculiar orphan. His attorneys deemed Kylo to be both too old to be adopted or sent away to finishing school. Neither option appealing to him, Kylo had been grateful that the universities here were closed to his sex. He had never been a good student.

To his frustration they dismissed his request to live alone outright. Unmarried Omegas did not keep house apparently.

“A delicate Omega such as yourself could not be left alone to be preyed upon by wolves.” Mr Threepo had uttered worriedly, ignoring the fact that Prince Kylo had already travelled through most of the Mid Rim alone and survived. In his homeland Prince Kylo Amidala had been a prince first and foremost. In Corellia his status as an Omega defined him. It chafed, almost as badly as his new undergarments.

“No, No! You would be pursued by scoundrels and fortune hunters. I am sure of it.” Mr Threepo insisted.

Unfortunately his ideas were not unfounded as the prince’s arrival in Corellia had not escaped the ears of the press who called him the lost prince and other such nonsense and wondered at his miraculous survival. Kylo’s princely status now little more than a courtesy, still drew media attention, speculation on his whereabouts filling the papers with newspaper men searching Coronet for the elusive prince.

Besides breaking social convention, with most of his remaining wealth tied up in a complicated trust fund, he was too poor to live alone in the manner he was accustomed.

His counsellors went on to conclude he was of an age to wed. And yet royal custom prevented him from making a home with a sympathetic Alpha. The situation perplexed Mr Threepo profoundly.

As the sole surviving member of the line of Vader custom expected him to mourn for a lengthy yet respectful period. A period of about two years. To be presented to grand society or courted while in mourning would be a great scandal apparently.

A telegram arrived just as Mr Threepo was close to aneurysm.

“We are saved!” Mr Threepo cried, throwing his hands up in the air and weeping.

“Lord Hux of Tarine Hall wishes you to reside with him as his ward!” He said excitedly showing the telegram to Mr Deetwo and Kylo.

“Lord who?” Kylo asked confused barely getting a chance to read the note as Mr Threepo danced across the room. “And what is a ward?”

“Lord Hux, is the current Baron of Scaparus, he knew your grandfather well.” Mr Threepo explained. “They served together in the Empire, they were men at arms together before your grandfather wed the Queen of Naboo. Oh this is marvellous news! Marvellous!” Mr Threepo said forgetting himself and kissing his husband, the quiet Mr Deetwo on the cheek. “He is inviting you to live with him and would be your temporary guardian until such time as you no longer require one.”

  
Kylo was not personally impressed by an invitation from a Baron. In exile or not he was still a prince. And Barons were about as low as one could be and still royal. Lord Hux likely had about as much royal blood in him as a Rancor. He said as much to Mr Deetwo as he stomped about in agitation, making sure his long robes swished about dramatically as he did so.

To his annoyance he was swiftly chastised by Mr Deetwo who reminded Kylo that his father had been a businessman and his grandfather had merely been a knight. Rank was not everything Mr Deetwo added informing Kylo that Lord Hux was a well-respected businessman who moved in all the best circles.

With no remaining relatives and no other options, Kylo felt pressed to accept the invitation aware that it was not safe to remain with his mother’s old friends. A telegram was sent accepting Lord Hux’s invitation.

Kylo had been surprised to discover Coronet city, birthplace of his father, was not quite as majestic as his father’s bedtime stories. There were no actual streets paved with gold. His father’s dramatic stories had painted quite another picture, full of ships, steam powered machines and adventure. Kylo had been fond of these stories and they still kept a special place in his heart, but now looking back Kylo could not determine how much had been exaggerated or merely imagined.

Corellia was nothing like his beloved, tropical homeland. Former land, he should say. Perhaps it was the stale air or the drab food of Coronet. Either way, Kylo sickened and faded. He was kept confined inside hiding from newspapermen, and spies, as the necessary arrangements were made in preparation for his trip to the countryside.

Once, not so long ago, he had wished to visit smoggy industrial Coronet city, and see the ships that had built his father’s fortune. Now on the handful of occasions he was allowed outside he felt uneasy in the crowds and kept close to Mr Deetwo like a lost duckling following the farmer’s wife, afraid of shadows least he be eaten by wolves.

As they walked through the market place he could feel people’s stares. Kylo was an unusual Omega, tall and strong where most genteel Omegas were small and dainty. An uncle had once joked Kylo would make an idea fisherman’s wife with his handsome rugged looks, a remark which had stung harder than intended.

Kylo had not paid much attention to fashion before, preferring to spend much of his time outdoors, but now that his future security lay in the arms of a rich Alpha Kylo intended to transform himself into the ideal Omega. He did not wish to stay the ward of a Baron all his life. He would use his time of mourning wisely, perfecting himself.

Stopping in front of a shopfront, Kylo found himself drawn to his refection in the glass. He noted with a smile that his hair had grown was longer, now almost kissing his shoulders. He looked better this way, he thought relieved to find his large ears less prominent. This metamorphosis would be easier than anticipated, he decided.

The dark grey city skies suited him as well as his new mourning clothes. Growing up Kylo had only been permitted to wear light colours, blues and whites mostly. He had longed for darker colours, deep reds and purples married Omegas wore.

Now he wore robes of the darkest colour, black. Perhaps it was vain of him, but Kylo enjoyed his visit to the seamstress, choosing the dark fabrics, crêpe and flounces. He wanted everyone to see his suffering, his heartache.

The first time he was laced into a corset in the seamstress’s small changing room, Kylo felt immensely sorry he had never been nicer to his mother, who had often been stuffed in one for some gala or other. He wondered how one breathed and quickly learnt one didn’t. By the time they had left the shop, his small allowance granted to him by Mr Threepo had been made smaller by the extravagant cost of mourning clothes.

Mr Threepo and Mr Deetwo were unbearably kind to him, often irritatingly so. Kylo was unused to being pitied. He found it uncomfortable, as if he were wearing the shoes of someone else. Someone poor. He was relieved then when he was deemed well enough to travel to Tarine Hall. Even if he were to be pitied there at least he would not be pitied by old friends.

The grandfather clock down the hall chiming midnight reminded Kylo of his promise and stirred him from his remembrance.

He realised with a start that the dwindling fire was now out. Chilled he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and checked himself in the mirror one last time, making sure his hair was just so for his meeting. There was unfortunately little he could do about his tear stained face. Kylo used one end of the blanket to dry his pink splotchy cheeks but worried little, by now everyone at the hall was used to his tears.

Casting one last look around his bedroom, Kylo picked up the candle and made his way from his quarters. He ought to be asleep in bed. Of course Kylo had always struggled to do what he ought to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo arrives at Tarine Hall...

The passageways of the Tarine Hall were long and dark especially at this time of night, and the old floor boards tended to squeak underneath Kylo’s abnormally large Omega feet. This part of the house was largely neglected, being used simply for storage until Kylo’s arrival. As a matter of fact most of the hall was shut up and disused.

As he made his way down the numerous labyrinthine corridors, Kylo took care to keep his candle steady and the flame strong, least he find himself wandering in the dark. The last thing he needed was to crash into a suit of armour and rouse the whole household. At first Kylo had been a little frightened of the house and its strange household. However a lot had changed over the past few months, Kylo included, and now the strange desolate hall was his home.

Having entrusted himself to Lord Hux’s care, Kylo had been surprised to discover Tarine Hall was not located in Corellia. Kylo did not particularly wish to travel any further having already done a great deal of travelling. However it was Mr Threepo’s belief that Kylo would be safer under Lord Hux’s protection, for his house was one of the last places anyone would look for the prince, their connection being weak at best.

Having already accepted the invitation Kylo’s objections held little sway, and so it was in the cover of darkness that Kylo boarded the train heading for the wilds of Arkanis. Settled in a small but private cabin with a small packet of sandwiches and flask of tea Kylo spent a sleepless night watching as the train rattled through unknown towns and villages.

The dawn rose elegantly and brightened Kylo’s low spirits. The closer he got to the hall, the more he worried about Lord Hux. He knew little about the man, and could not recall him ever being mentioned by his parents. His attorneys had conversed with him through various letters and telegrams and trusted him, however Kylo was weary of strangers, and in particular Alphas. 

Despite his tiredness Kylo did his best to keep track of the many stations the train passed through, their names all strange and unfamiliar. He rubbed his eyes and did his best to make himself comfortable in the thinly padded seat. Kylo began to feel hungry, devouring the plain ham sandwiches and lukewarm tea. He feasted a little too quickly, the train conductor later advising him that the train was running behind and there were still several hours left until his arrival. 

A sudden shower of raindrops against the sash window broke his boredom but only slightly. Arkanis was an unusual country in that it rained constantly. Famous for its wet and miserable weather. A ludicrous thing to be famous for Kylo thought privately. He did however admire the plentiful verdant hills and smog free skies of Arkanis that rolled past his carriage window. In Kylo’s opinion the country of Arkanis shared the same large defect as Corellia, in that neither country were his beautiful homeland of Naboo.

Upon reaching his stop Kylo was assisted from the train by the station attendant, who worried Kylo’s long robes would tangle in the machinery. Once securely upon the empty station platform Kylo was greeted by Ms Scyre, the housekeeper of Tarine Hall.

Ms Scyre was a tall young woman made taller by her sturdy grey boots. She was classically good looking in a stern sort of way. She seemed a sensible no nonsense woman, the sort who was often found organising things. Kylo had been able to tell at a glance her occupation. She wore a plain grey dress, while her blonde hair was cut short and curled around her face, a style not unusual for a Beta. She did not curtsy but took his hand and shook it warmly.

“I’ve heard you are a grand prince, and I expect you are what with that fancy dress. However no one calls me Ms Scyre, not even the Master. I won’t stand for it. I go by Phasma.” She said her hand still holding onto his.

Kylo determined from her grip that she was a talented huntress. He nodded and smiled back at her, realising immediately that she would make an awful enemy. The very picture of a natural leader, he could imagine her Captain of a large warship terrorising the seas.

“Of course. Please call me Kylo.” He replied bowing his head.

It had been a long journey and mist was settling thickly, choking the sky so they did not dawdle making small talk at the station. Taking Kylo firmly in one arm and his meagre belongings in the other Phasma lead him from the train station towards a handsome black carriage and waiting driver.

“Night falls early here, and the moorlands are dangerous. All sorts of creatures lurk there.” She warned as she secured the locks on the inside of the carriage tightly, having already stowed Kylo’s luggage. Kylo settled in his seat quickly keen to get to the hall before nightfall. His mind wandered over her warning, imagining all sorts of horrid creatures lurking in the moorlands.

As the carriage set off Phasma settled a blanket over Kylo’s lap, aware that he was unused to the climate. Despite her rough country manner she was not unkind Kylo mused.

Her manner of talking was strange to him, but he found her interesting in a way that common people generally did not interest him. Kylo did not recall ever having a friend of his own. But perhaps despite their difference in social status Phasma would be a companion of sorts.

“We prepared your quarters as best we could.” She said staring out the carriage window, her hands resting neatly on her lap. “It’s a gloomy place and I expect you will find yourself bored, used to fancy parties and the like. We don’t entertain when the Master is not at home. I suppose that’s why you were sent here. To spend your period of mourning quietly without distraction.”

Kylo had been confused by her words and enquired where the Master was at present. To Kylo’s amusement he then learnt his new guardian lived in Coronet city, most of the year, due to his business. When the Master was home, which was not often, he brought his Coronet household with him.

Phasma did not seem a chatty person in general, however Kylo was an expert at small talk, and in no time at all they had fallen into comfortable conversation, discovering that they had much in common, Phasma also being an orphan, the daughter of the late rector. She had worked for Lord Hux for many years and Kylo could tell she kept many secrets. She was loyal to the house and Lord Hux.

Lost in conversation, Kylo almost missed Tarine Hall as it loomed into view. Tarine Hall was a queer place, located in the middle of the rambling Scaparus estate. The old house was large and intimidating, its gothic architecture reminding Kylo of the frightening novels his mother had forbidden him to read.

Kylo had enough time during the long drive up to the house to analyse Phasma. In spite of her birth he could see she was a gem of the finest quality. Lord Hux was lucky to have such a good housekeeper.

“Please do not think me impertinent but given that there is no one here but myself and the rest of the staff, you won’t be offended to dine with me would you?” Phasma asked as they waited for the driver to open the carriage door for them and help them out. “Alternatively I can have your meals brought up to you on a tray.” She offered apprehensively.

Kylo shook his head. “I would be pleased for your company.” He told her honestly.

Exiting the carriage Kylo found the servants were waiting to greet them, standing in regimental line by the grand entrance to the hall. Kylo’s heart ached as he recalled the similarities to his former regal duties. He felt almost as if he were back at the palace.

Despite his feelings he did his best to smile as Phasma introduced him in turn to each servant. Despite its size, the hall kept only a handful of staff, a cook, some maids and a gardener. The staff were all surprisingly young, the maids Rose and Rey in particular merely girls in training.

Poe the young gardener seemed to wink at him, to Kylo’s indignation. Could the Alpha not see he was wearing the dark black of mourning? Kylo found himself disliking the handsome Alpha. There was something about his easy smile, which reminded Kylo terribly of his father. Holding his head high and ignoring the insolent youth, Kylo followed Phasma into his new home. The promise of hot tea and fresh cakes drowning any worries he held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback is appreciated!


	3. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of updates on this. I have no excuse really. I struggled with this chapter and have a little more planned out but expect updates to sporadic.

After tea and several scones in the second best sitting room, Phamsa showed him to his private quarters so that he could relax and refresh himself a little before dinner. As Phasma led him through the various passageways, she took the time to lay out the rules of the household. Kylo nodded along politely, not really listening.

Kylo was captivated by the strange house and its furnishing, his eyes unused to the more formal Arkanis style, the dark fabrics; deep burgundies and dusky plums. He could tell that most of the furniture was old, antiques no doubt once the work of finest craftsman but now dulled with time. The long carpets running down the corridors were ugly but necessary, the stone beneath cold like the rest of the empty house.

Kylo was glad he had brought several heavy robes and a thick black fur back in Corellia. The last thing he needed was to catch a chill and die, for the house already looked haunted. 

Along the way to his rooms Kylo caught a passing look at many interesting portraits and strange statues. He noted with interest that most of the figures in the portraits had peculiar red hair. A family trait he supposed, although he had never seen such colouring before.

One portrait in particular caught his eye. Newer than all the rest along the wall, it depicted of a young ginger gentleman, dressed fashionably in a black officer’s uniform. Kylo was unfamiliar with the insignia and could not work out his rank but noted the little plaque read A. Hux. Was this the mysterious Lord Hux? He wondered staring at the painting of the gentleman. If so Kylo would not mind being his ward quite so much for the gentleman was clearly an Alpha, and seemed to be 25 or there about. The kind of Alpha Kylo would have liked to dance with at a ball, depending of course on the gentleman’s endowment.

Phasma was several steps ahead of him, almost at the end of the corridor. Realising at last that he was no longer beside her, Phasma turned around and walked back towards him irritated by his waywardness.

“Why are you dawdling?” She asked with a sigh as she reached him. She pinched her nose and put her hand to her hips in a gesture that reminded Kylo fleetingly of countless nannies who had always found an excuse not to stay longer than a season. 

“Oh.” She said seeing the portrait he was admiring. Her voice was strange as if she had seen a ghost or something else unusual instead of a handsome portrait.

“I thought we’d moved that into storage.” She told Kylo recovering herself somewhat.

“Storage? But he’s so handsome.” Kylo protested. He had seen several house portraits by now, and of them all this was his favourite.

Phasma hummed thoughtfully. “He was. It’s complicated. Come on.” She said taking his arm and steering him away from the portrait.

Kylo went reluctantly, largely because Phasmas grip on him was surprisingly strong.

At the door of Kylo’s rooms, he had asked Phasma to stay but she had declined, gently reminding him that she had various duties to carry out. Given that Kylo was her only guest at present, Kylo had little idea what these could be. But he supposed she may also be tired from their coach ride and let her go without protest.

Turning to his new quarters, Kylo discovered to his delight that they were large and spacious and almost worthy of a prince. The furniture was ancient and handsome, especially the large four-poster bed which had ornate carvings and looked older than Kylo’s grandfather. The linen on the bed was clean and new and a small fire burnt in the fireplace warming the room giving it a cosy feel.

Kylo went towards the large window but there was little to see besides the pouring rain. Turning away he investigated the bookshelves full of titles he didn’t recognise. The books were all in the Arkanis tongue, which was not his favourite language, but despite this he picked up what looked to be a small book of poetry.

Book in hand he sat upon the bed gingerly, careful of his tight corset which felt a little tighter after so many delicious honey soaked cakes and scones thick with cream and jam.

He sat for a minute on his bed, trying to read the book and failing to understand the ancient verses.

He sighed resting a hand on his chin. A part of him was pleased to have a house and staff to himself. But a larger part of him worried he would be lonely. Although an only child, he was used to being surrounded by servants and a large extended family. It would be strange not having a court of people to adore him.

Now that Phasma had gone there seemed to be very little left to entertain him. Kylo was in mourning yes, but were books to be his only company for the duration? Kylo threw the book upon the bed in frustration. He would go mad!

He shifted his foot and felt something touch his boot. Startled he looked down and found a small white paw, fondling at the shoelace. Getting up from the bed, something which took a sizable amount of time, Kylo peeked beneath and found an adorable chubby ginger cat hiding under his bed.

Kylo smiled down at the cat. He adored animals. Removing a long black ribbon from his hair, Kylo trailed it on the ground to draw the feline out from its hiding spot.

“Come here darling.” Kylo murmured as he wiggled the ribbon, sweetly encouraging the cat to come out and play with him.

In no time at all the cat was sitting on Kylo’s lap, covering his black robes in orange fluff as Kylo stroked her contentedly. Who would have thought he would find two friends in one day? He mused falling in love with the cat. He jiggled the bell on her collar black collar lightly, enjoying the light twinkle it made. Clearly this cat was no stray but a beloved pet.

As he played with the cat, Kylo idly wondered if the she belonged to Phasma, or perhaps the cook given her impressive size. The collar around her neck seemed expensive however, maybe too expensive for a servant to squander on a cat.

Phasma had said nothing but Kylo had the impression Lord Hux did not pay his staff an impressive salary. Without meeting the man he was unable to determine if this was due to a lack of funds or simply meanness. Kylo quickly pushed these miserable thoughts away. It was impolite to discuss money and none of his concern really provided his needs were met and he was well cared for.

She nipped at Kylo’s fingers playfully as he attempted to stroke her ears. Clearly the cat was well loved and friendly. If only Kylo knew the darling cat’s name. Wishing to feed the cat a saucer of milk for the cat, Kylo carried her in his arms downstairs towards what he hoped was the kitchen.

He was in a downstairs hallway wondering which way to turn a door opened. Startled slightly by the unexpected noise Kylo turned expecting to see Phasma or one of the maids.

A monster stood in the hallway. A foul creature with pale translucent skin and a strange deformed head.

Kylo stood there frozen on the spot, unable to move.

Where had this monster come from?

It looked like a demon come to steal Kylo away. Kylo screamed and held the cat tightly in his arms, wishing he had some sort of weapon to kill it with. Alas he had lost his grandfather’s sword during his escape.

Phasma suddenly appeared from seemingly nowhere and put a calming hand on Kylo’s shoulder. “It seems I forgot to mention Dr Snoke.” She said coolly, doing her best to calm the terrified Omega.

Kylo looked again at the monster who was apparently just a horrid ugly old man. Dr Snoke moved closer to the candle light and saw that Phasma spoke the truth. Kylo’s fear was immediately replaced by embarrassment. He had never made such a spectacle of himself before, and on his first night in his new home!

“I apologise if he startled you, Dr Snoke resides at the Hall as well.” She explained. “Lord Hux funds the doctors’ research, he conducts his experiments in the basement.” Phasma added before Kylo could question why such a small establishment required a doctor to board year round when the master of the house did not.

Kylo feels his cheeks redden in embarrassment as the ancient doctor came closer.

“Good evening” Kylo greeted letting the doctor take his hand and shake it. A kiss to the hand would have been more proper but also more repulsive.

Dr Snoke’s thin veiny hand was cold like ice. “I apologise if I frightened you.” The old man said his grip like steel despite his appearance. “No doubt you were alarmed by the sudden presence of an unfamiliar Alpha in the house.” He said apparently referring to himself. Kylo could tell the man thought highly of himself, no doubt still believing himself to be a catch any young Omega dreamt of marrying. Kylo was well aware of the outrageous vanity of Alphas, and was thankful he was a sensible modest Omega. 

Kylo kept silent, unable to think of something polite to say to the deranged doctor.

“I’m well aware of the effect I have on Omegas.” Dr Snoke added creepily, speaking to Phasma as if Kylo were no longer in the room. “Despite my years my scent remains rather potent.” He added, and Kylo realised, his stomach churning, that the new pungent putrid smell came from Snoke and not the basement as he had first assumed.

“If it weren’t for my old war injuries I’d make an excellent Husband.” Dr Snoke said letting go of Kylo’s hand reluctantly.

The sweet cat in Kylo’s arms hissed at Dr Snoke as if offended on Kylo’s behalf.

A sudden strange noise emanated from one of the rooms nearby.

Kylo’s head turned trying to determine the location of sound. It sounded like a piercing yell followed by something large and expensive breaking. Phasma and the doctor exchanged a silent but significant look.

They did not seem concerned at all about the strange noise. Which was very strange given Phasma had come running at his startled screams. It was a strange household indeed he thought looking at the doctor. But perhaps one of the maids had been cleaning down in the basement and knocked over something he reasoned, his stomach still uneasy at the thought. Who knew what strange eerie things the doctor kept hidden below?

“Alas I’m afraid I cannot leave my uh experiments alone too long.” Snoke said finding his voice first. “I would advise you, young man, to keep well away from my basement, and of course the forbidden northern wing.” Dr Snoke said as he turned slowly and headed back towards the door Kylo believed to lead to the basement.

Kylo made a mental note never to go near the strange basement, least he be forced to spend time with the spine-chilling Dr Snoke and his cold hands.

Contrarily the forbidden northern wing roused his interest greatly. Phasma had not mentioned this forbidden wing on his tour.

Kylo had never been forbidden to do anything before, and the only authority he had ever obeyed was his late mother and even then only on occasion. He didn’t care for Dr Snoke or his orders. Who was he to decide where Prince Kylo went? He was not Kylo’s alpha! Kylo decided silently that he would start an exploration of the house and all its rooms. After all how dangerous could a house be? He wondered.

Later that first night he had lain in bed, in a nest of pillows, musing upon his absent host, Lord Hux and of that handsome ginger portrait. He had fallen asleep staring at the bed curtains waiting hopefully for the lord to come for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments warm my heart and give me energy to write!


End file.
